


(don't) Shut up, Ray

by bisexualhotchner



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Brad is an anxious bean in this, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, and Ray can't handle emotions well, it is just a word vomit of them dealing with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24454093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualhotchner/pseuds/bisexualhotchner
Summary: ‘You never had a problem talking before.’‘I know, it’s not that, it’s just,’ Ray rubbed at his forehead. ‘Dude, if you say no, I literally don’t think I would know what to fucking do with myself.'Ray wants to propose. It doesn't really go as planned. (Or does it)
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	(don't) Shut up, Ray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brianmaybrianmay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brianmaybrianmay/gifts).



> This was a Tumblr drabble I decided to publish because I love upping the numbers of my fics, it's comforting.  
> The prompts were: 1. “I love you, okay? I’m here for you.” + 4. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but…” + 7. “I hate you. I really do.” and they were requested by Ao3 user brianmaybrianmay <3

Ray was weird for two whole weeks in a row, and Brad had it up here with that shit.

He was generally more quiet. It seemed like his energy was turned off for some reason, like he was being drained by something, something he just couldn’t quite deal with. It was Iraq all over again, like the time Ray forgot to tell him how fucked up he feels, and then went off and got the shit beat out of him by Rudy.

And just like that last time, Brad was freaked out by his silence.

‘Where the hell are you?’ he asked once, laying side by side in his king-size bed, no cuddling, not even touching. This was another one of the new, unnerving, weird shit Ray was up to these days.

‘Fuckin’ here, Brad.’ Ray grumbled back at him, feigning sleep. Brad knew exactly how awake he was.

‘You’re going to your appointments?’

‘You know I do.’ Ray moved, squirming until he could turn around and face Brad in bed. ‘The fuck, man? Is this an interrogation or some shit?’

Brad needed to take a deep breath to calm down and not start throwing insults back. God, did he want to. ‘No, Ray. I only wanted to tell you that **I love you, okay?** And **I’m here for you.** If you have anything on your mind, I’ll listen.’ he observed the outline of Ray’s furrowed brows and pursed lips in the dim light, reaching out to trace his cheekbones with the tips of his fingers. Ray’s face seemed to twitch at that, and Brad quickly retreated, tucking his hand under his pillow. He tried to fight the unsettled feeling in his stomach, slowly getting to his throat and seemingly threatening to cut off his air supply.

‘Thanks, dude.’ Ray said, sounding hoarse and turning again to have his back to him. Brad’s hands physically ached with the need to touch him, pull him into him and never let go. ‘Appreciate it.’

The next day, Ray kept looking like he was on the verge of blurting something out.

Brad brought him coffee when he woke up at noon, wordlessly setting it on his bedside table - he had to rearrange the emptied ashtray and his pack of cigarettes to make room for it -, and bracing himself on the bed as he bent down to press a kiss on his cheek. Ray eventually turned his head towards him, still sleepy but looking intent, trying to chase after him as Brad promptly pulled away. They looked at each other for a while, both blinking their surprise.

‘Morning.’ Brad said then, quietly. Ray just nodded, and reached for his coffee.

Later in the day, when the sun was already setting and Brad had took a drive, a ride on his bike, and even went on a run without Ray whenever the fucker had tried to speak up but stopped himself and even derailed the topic, trying and miserably failing at pretending everything _is_ fine - late in the afternoon, Brad and Ray watched some movies from their couch, beers in hand and tense silence between them as the sunlight painted their entire living room pink.

Ray’s knees were bouncing. Both of them, at the same time, in different paces. It drove Brad crazy.

‘Goddamn it, Ray!’ Brad yelled suddenly, and Ray physically jumped up from the couch, spilling a bit of his beer in the carpet. Brad saw the fear in his eyes, and suddenly felt bad for him. He was like a deer caught in the headlights, but Brad was done fucking around. ‘Tell me, what the fuck is up with you.’

‘I can’t, homes.’ Ray sounded wrecked, beaten-down and sad. ‘I- yeah, I can, I’ve been wanting to do this for weeks, but I- I just can’t. Brad, I’m sorry.’

‘What the fuck do you mean you can’t?’ Brad took Ray’s beer, and set down both of theirs on the coffee table to avoid any more spilling, and then stood up to look Ray in his eyes. ‘You never had a problem talking before.’

‘I know, it’s not that, it’s just,’ Ray rubbed at his forehead. ‘Dude, if you say no, I literally don’t think I would know what to fucking do with myself, it’s just so fucked up, _I’m_ fucked up on thinking about it,’

‘Ray.’ Brad grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him. ‘Just tell me, you dipshit.’

Ray gulped, hard. ‘You have to let me go for that, homie.’ he whispered then.

Brad took a second to read Ray’s eyes before doing so. And Ray swiftly got down on one knee.

‘Sergeant Bradley Iceman Piece-of-shit Colbert.’ Ray then said, fixing his eyes on Brad’s shocked face. ‘I had a whole fucking speech prepared that I have yet to memorize, because you’re now bullying me into doing this thing. **I know it’s a lot to ask, but...** ’ he fished around in the pocket of his zip-up hoodie, almost giving Brad a heart attack when he thought about him carrying it around all this time. He then popped the small box in his face, revealing a plain golden band. ‘Will you take my ugly ass in marriage for the rest of our sad-ass lives?’

‘That was gay as shit.’ Brad muttered, his throat absolutely sore. ‘And you’re proposing with a fucking wedding ring? You ridiculous whiskey-tango redneck hick.’

‘Fuck you, a diamond or some shit would be way more gay.’ Ray clapped back, still sounding like he was holding his breath. ‘Brad? Brad, you’re saying yes?’

‘ **I hate you. I really do.** ’ Brad held out his hand, noting how it was shaking. Ray grinned wide and sweet, scrambling closer on the floor to grab it and put the ring on his finger.

As soon as he did, Brad grabbed his wrist, yanking him up from the carpet to take him in his arms, kissing him wildly, desperately, wetly. His entire body felt warm, burning up, and he tried to pour all this excitement, all this happiness into Ray through his kisses.

He really fucking did.


End file.
